Noon rolled around, and still Soda hadn't turned up- we really wanted to wait until the last possible moment we could before leaving, in case Soda turned up to find we'd left him behind. We sat in the bar downstairs, and listened to the radio that the barman had switched to news broadcast.
"A man in his twenties has been killed outside the local police station when a van turned without indicating into the drive which he was crossing, hitting him. He was carrying a bus pass stating his name to be "Sodapop Curtis", though whether this is genuine or not has yet to be investigated."
Two Bit buried his face in his hands.
"Things just don't get better, do they?" He murmured hoarsely, leaning over the table using his arms as a pillow.
My throat constricted, and I tried not to cry. Soda was gone too? How many more people did I have to lose? Why did this all have to happen to me? I found no answers waiting to pop out into my mind, and I simply sprawled over the edge of the table I was sitting at.